


A Numbing Evening

by Always_Dreaming



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6736615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Dreaming/pseuds/Always_Dreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a prestigious MotoGP awards ceremony, two riders drink dubious cocktails and their team mates have to help them cope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Numbing Evening

At the end of the 2016 season, so set in the future…

 

Dani Pedrosa sighed heavily when he saw the name cards set out neatly at the table. The Repsol Honda and Movistar Yamaha riders had pride of place because they would be receiving significant awards that evening, but did they really have to sit next to each other? At least the other riders would be nearby to help break up any fights, but as usual, Dani knew he’d be in the role of peacemaker.

He quickly swapped the cards around so Jorge would sit at one end, then Vale, then himself, then Marc. If anyone was going to come to blows, it would be Marc and Vale. Or would it be Jorge and Vale? But he couldn’t sit between all of them. He wondered if Dovi could somehow sit between them, but the political aspects of that would not be wise—Jorge was on his way to Ducati next year and sitting next to his 2017 team mate in 2016 would cause a big scandal.

Jorge, Vale and Marc filed in, stony faced, and sat where Dani had put them without comment. That was one hurdle cleared at least, even if the atmosphere between them was freezing. The other team mates laughed and joked around them, watching the highlights of the 2016 season showing onscreen behind the stage.

The waitresses served everyone their first courses, and the drinks. Usually Vale tried to chat them up, but this year he was mysteriously restrained. Jorge sat there looking thoughtful, and Marc wriggled in his chair like a child, trying to look round at everything all at once.

A male presenter walked onto the stage and announced the format for the evening—a summary of the season, then each team principal would speak, then the award presentation.

Dani stifled a yawn. This was going be one of the most boring evenings of his life, if his companions were going to ignore each other the whole time. He took a large swig of his cocktail, hoping it would make the time go faster.

After a few minutes, however, he made a worrying discovery and clutched Marc’s arm, pinching the skin under his shirt.

“Ow! What are you doing?”

Dani pointed to his mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“I arnt eel i ung.”

“What?”

“I ung! Is arali.” He stuck his tongue out.

“Your tongue? You’ve hurt your tongue?” Marc’s eyebrows shot up. “How? When?”

Dani pointed to his glass which contained a clear green liquid. Marc reached for it to take a sip but Dani slapped it out of his hand. The liquid fizzed on the table cloth and left a green mark.

“What the hell?” Marc stared.

“Ot an I oo?” Dani was drooling as he tried to talk. He stuck his tongue out and tapped it, showing Marc that it was numb, then pointed to his meal—steak and thick cut chips with a leafy couscous salad.

“You can’t eat that—you’ll choke! Chop it into little bits.” His face was full of concern.

“What is going on ‘ere?” Vale peered round Dani. “What’s ‘appened?”

Dani’s eyes begged Marc to speak for him.

“His tongue is paralysed,” said the young rider, forcing himself to look at the Italian for the first time in a long while. “He can’t talk. Or eat.”

“What?” Vale’s voice was so loud that the nearest riders looked round.

“Shhh!” said Dani, blushing.

“Marc, why is this?” Vale leant towards him.

“He drank the green cocktail and now his tongue is paralysed.” Marc’s voice shook.

“Oh. Don’t worry.” Vale smiled and patted Dani’s arm. “It’ll wear off soon, I’m sure.”

Meanwhile, Jorge took a glass of the green cocktail from the nearby tray. It had a strong but palatable taste and he downed it in one.

Dani had chopped up his food and was trying to feed himself but as his tongue had no feeling, he kept stabbing it.

“Use the spoon.” Marc gathered up a bit of steak and held it out to Dani, who tried to eat it but it was still difficult. He sighed.

“I will ‘elp you,” said Vale, using his own spoon to pick up a piece of chip to put in Dani’s mouth.

“No, I’m helping him!” snapped Marc. “He’s my team mate!”

“He’s my friend!” retorted Vale, and they fought over Dani’s plate.

Dani made a loud, frustrated noise and they stopped.

Vale felt someone tapping on his arm and looked round to see Jorge, his face tense.

“I arn eel i ung,” he said.

“Ah, you too?” Vale sneered. “Or just trying to get attention? Leave me alone, I am ‘elping my friend.”

Dani slapped his arm and pointed to Jorge.

“You have to help him, Vale,” said Marc. “The presentations are coming up soon, we can’t be late with our dinner.” He grinned smugly.

Vale sighed and turned to Jorge, who was managing slightly better because his meal was fish and duchess potatoes with roast courgettes, tomatoes and onions, which were softer and easier to eat. But he was still struggling.

“You drank the green cocktail, yes?” demanded Vale.

Jorge nodded. Vale picked up his glass and poured water into it to clean the remnants of the green drink out. He watched Jorge trying to eat and making a mess of it, then relented and helped him out. He couldn’t have people thinking he was insensitive now, could he?

“Open wide,” giggled Marc on the other side of him. “Here comes the aeroplane.” He swooped the spoon carrying a small piece of steak towards Dani’s mouth. Dani showed him his middle finger so he stopped and just put it in his mouth normally, still giggling.

Jorge’s face was bright red, he couldn’t have looked more embarrassed as Vale fed him, and this pleased the Italian immensely.

“You see,” he said. “Team mates should ‘elp each other, not stab each other in the back.”

Jorge glared at him. “oo ud oh.”

“What? I can’t understand you.” Vale chortled so Jorge pushed his hand away and carried on trying to eat by himself. He did his best, then the main course was whisked away and the puddings brought. Unfortunately, he had ordered chocolate cookie crunch with layers of cream and nuts, so he soon had chocolate and cream all around his mouth.

Marc leaned over Dani and tapped Vale on the arm, saying, “You can’t leave him to struggle on his own. That’s cruel.”

“You know all about cruel! You feed Jorge if you’re so concerned! I know you two worked together to stop me winning the championship last year, and—”

Dani made an impatient noise.

“Well,” said Marc. “I must tell you. It wasn’t Jorge, it was me. I didn’t care who won the title, as long as it wasn’t you.”

He gazed at Vale, who’s expression changed from disbelief to anger and all the emotions in between. Jorge made a triumphant noise and tapped Vale’s arm, pointing to Vale and to himself.

“I did it because you sabotaged my race in—” began Marc, despite Dani putting a restraining hand on his arm.

But before they could all get into an argument, the microphone onstage screeched and a loud voice announced, “now ladies and gentlemen. The important part of the evening—the awards presentation!”

“Uck!” said Jorge and Dani together. Jorge wiped his face quickly with his napkin.

“We’ll talk about this later,” said Vale to Marc, giving him a savage look. “We ‘ave to help them.” He turned his back on the Repsol riders. “Shall I talk for you onstage?” he said to Jorge, almost smiling. The Spaniard nodded.

The first presentation was the Fair Play award, to be given to Dani for his assistance to Dovi when he crashed, and numerous other honourable actions he had performed in 2016. 

Dani and Marc stood up to walk to the stage, the other diners frowning in confusion because they didn’t expect both Honda riders to go.

“Poor Dani,” said Vale. “’E lost his voice, so Marc has to speak for him.” The other riders, who for some reason hadn’t noticed the feeding situation, nodded sympathetically.

On the podium, Marc began to speak. “Unfortunately, Dani has a bad cold and has lost his voice—”

Dani coughed feebly and unconvincingly.

“—so he nominated me to give his acceptance speech. He certainly deserves the award for Fair Play because there hasn’t been much sporting behaviour in MotoGP lately.”

Vale coughed very loudly from the table but Marc ignored him. Jorge was laughing and trying to hide it.

“I would like to say that I was a big fan of Dani from the moment I started riding a bike. I was so happy when I joined the Repsol team and became his team mate but I was nervous that like so many idols, he’d act like a massive dick—”

Audience members gasped and Dani nudged Marc.

“Er—I mean, act in a superior manner to me and treat me like some hopeless kid. But he never did, and we get on very well as team mates. Unlike some of my heroes, who turned out to be scheming, self-centred bast—”

This time, Dani elbowed Marc so violently, he nearly fell off the podium and looked back to see Dani glaring at him.

“So anyway, I am pleased to accept the award for him.” He took the shining trophy from the tall, willowy woman holding it, presented it to Dani with a flourish and they nodded to each other.

They sauntered back to their table to a standing ovation and a clamour of voices.

As they sat down, Dani frowned at his team mate.

“What? What did I do wrong?” asked Marc with an innocent face.

 

Both Yamaha riders were then called up to the stage, but this time no one commented because they were both supposed to go for their team award.

Vale adjusted the microphone for his height and began. “I am sad to say that my team mate has also lost his voice and I too ‘ave to give a speech for him. We are both very ‘appy to accept the award for the highest achieving team this season.”

The audience clapped.

“This season has been much more enjoyable and calmer at Yamaha, because one of us won the championship and the other came second. So we deserve this award. For me, twenty fifteen was a heartbreak due to behaviour by certain other riders.”

Jorge made an impatient noise and Vale held up his finger in a ‘sh’ motion to him.

“But I ‘ave come to realise that it was not my team mate involved, it was all the idea of someone else, who I shall not name. But I wish to accept these awards for both Jorge and myself and make a fresh start as he is now going to another team.” He took the trophies from the smiling presenter and handed one to Jorge with a little nod. Jorge’s expression was a mixture of shock and happiness and he nodded in return.

 

Vale and Marc glared at each other as the Yamaha riders took their seats again.

“Everyone knew who you meant by that,” said Marc. “Why can’t you just forget it?

Vale shrugged. “Well, if you play dirty—”

“Hey!” said Dani. “My tongue is better.” He beamed. 

The trio turned to Jorge, who still looked uncomfortable and shook his head.

“It’ll recover soon,” said Dani. “You must have drunk more than me. We should tell the hosts, there must be something wrong with the cocktail. Its lucky that more people weren’t affected—” Now he could talk again, he didn’t want to stop.

“If you play dirty, you must expect dirty in return,” continued Vale to Marc. “You are the little bastard, not me.”

“You started it. You could have talked to me in private or apologised!”

“Apologised? You little—”

“Stop it!” said Jorge. 

They all turned to him.

“You are better?” said Vale.

“Yes. And I am innocent. Marc told the truth. Why did you suddenly believe him?”

“Well, I try very ‘ard to beat you two this year but I cannot. You did no dirty tricks, they were all last year, and you win the title.”

“I never did dirty tricks! It was Marc, he—”

“Yes, yes, yes, whatever. But also…” Vale paused and the other three looked questioningly at him. “My girlfriend…she is pregnant. She will ‘ave baby in summer.”

“Oh!” gasped Dani, grinning. “Congratulations.” He shook Vale’s hand.

“So, I must grow up and be a father. Not just think of myself.” He was red in the face, but Jorge and Marc shook his hand, one after the other.

“Well,” said Dani. “Here is a drink—not the green one—to toast your new status.” He picked up some nice, safe champagne from in front of Pol Espargaro, who was so busy talking to his brother that he didn’t notice.

“Cheers!” said Marc, and they all clinked glasses.

**Author's Note:**

> After I upset myself writing Careful What You Wish For, I wanted a more light-hearted way for the Fearsome Foursome to make friends again.


End file.
